More candy. I’m already tired of this, but a deal’s a deal.
Candy Pipe: And there she is. The one and only.
For a while, a cherry candy pipe was my favorite candy on the planet. Don’t write it off as mere “red licorice,” because the flavor was so much richer, spicier and awesomenier. Best of all, you had to eat it slow, because no kid could get a candy pipe and not spend an hour pretending it was real.
Not to be gross, but the phony smoking only improved the flavor. With the tip between your lips, the pipe grew mushier, and by the time you finally started biting, it was like a radiator-heated slice of cherry pie. So, so good. (If you’ve ever turned a Twizzler into a soda straw, you know how good those Twizzlers were when you eventually ate them. This was sort of the same deal.)
The candy pipes also come in black, but black licorice is an affront to us all.
Two things, one photo. It’s time management, see.
Rock Candy: Spotting rock candy again reminds me of the one local ice cream parlor we had during my youth. I still remember the first time I saw it there. Being totally unfamiliar with the concept of rock candy, I just assumed that the parlor’s owners invented the stuff themselves.
So began my brief but passionate affair with rock candy. I thought it was so freakin’ cool. The most common rock candy is “clear” colored, looking much like mutant quartz. That’s the best kind, but this sparkling blue version is also capable of making the world a brighter place.
As for the flavor, it’s sugar on a stick. Nobody buys rock candy just for the taste, though. You buy it because petrophysics is much more fun when you can eat your specimens.
I’ve wanted to use the word “petrophysics” for like, eight months now.
Wax Lips: As a child, I did not understand wax lips. Actually, I’m not sure if I understand wax lips today, either. I know that the wax is pleasantly flavored and nontoxic, but I’ve never been clear on if we’re really supposed to eat it.
Can someone explain wax lips to me? What I usually do is wear them for a second, chew them for twenty minutes, and then spit the gloppy wax into a secret crevice where nobody will ever find it. Is this the proper stratagem? I’d be crushed to learn that I’ve spent decades incorrectly wax lipping.
There’s still MORE CANDY to come. I would’ve given up sooner, but someone from a foreign land PM’d me to say thanks, because he doesn’t get such cool candy where he lives. So now I feel all humbled and responsible. I must continue candying.